


Hyssop are Left To Wilt

by TheAdventureofTheVoid



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety Attacks, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, F/M, Faked Death, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, This is a wild ride, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdventureofTheVoid/pseuds/TheAdventureofTheVoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all these years will they find out the truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shattered Mugs

Grantaire is smiling as the meeting around him goes on around him. The sun is setting behind Enjolras as he gives his speech.  


"This war is far from over, the people have risen, they have made their demands clear but the King's men are still out there! While we fight for our freedom- our right to have a voice within our countries affairs- they fight for the right to oppress us! We can not let them win the power that no man should ever have! We must continue to unite and fight for our freedom!" Enjolras delivers the speech as eloquent as he always does. A cheer rises from their friends once the last word has been spoken. Grantaire lifts his bottle in a motion that one makes after giving a toast. He can drink to Enjolras' words for once.  


"Congratulations." He says as Enjolras stands by his table. His voice rough from the time he has gone without speaking.

 

"The speech is one of the best you've made yet. Very little for me to argue against."  


"Thank you R. It would not have been such a well thought out argument had you not gone over it with me." Enjolras is smiling, inching a little closer to the table.

 

"It was truly a great deal of help. I only wish-" Enjolras cuts himself off, looking down at the table, instead of at Grantaire.  


"Only wish what Enjolras?" Grantaire asks, one bushy eyebrow raising in suspicion.  


"Now is not the time to speak of it. Come let us celebrate our first of many victories." His eyes and voice are gentler than what Grantaire is used to. Is an oddity he can't help but notice. He wants to say something but those green eyes meet his once more, he is lost in them, only the light that gleams in them guides him. He can't help the small smile that spreads on his face.  


"Alright, alright, I will come with you Alexandre." His voice is playful, the words slip out easy. When he stands, he notices they are closer than they were moments before. He looks up, once again entranced by those eyes and he can feel Enjolras' breath on his lips. His brown eye meet those green ones that haunt him, Enjolras is leaning down, Grantaire is leaning up. His mind in a state of disbelief when a loud, teasing voice stops them.  


"I never thought I would see the day that Grantaire would have to be convinced to attend a celebration." Bahorel's smile is as wide as the new found Gap between the two men. What had been centimeters between them became several feet. Grantaire avoids Enjolras' eyes as he quickly recovers.  


"I see no point in celebrating a victory that I did nothing significant to contribute to." He states, he can feel Enjolras rolling his eyes even if he can not see them. He ignores it along with the warm feeling in his cheeks, he has never been more grateful for his darker complexion. He would not live it down if either Bahorel or Enjolras notice him blush.  


"That is nonsense Grantaire, you did contribute. The victory is just as much yours as it is everyone else in this room." Enjolras speaks once again he has the voice he uses when standing in front of an audience. The same voice that could make any man believe that his words are more important than anyone else's.  


"Enjolras-" Grantaire starts to attempt to argue with the blond man, he keeps his eyes down cast and Enjolras stops. He looks puzzled for a few moments before he smiles. It's a smile he has seen very few times. It's kind, caring, a mischievous kind of smile. His voice is soft when he speaks.  


"Adrien believe-" Enjolras' words are cut off, his smile fades into a look of pain. Grantaire can see the red on Enjolras' blue shirt, turning it a horrible shade of brown.  


"Enjolras!" Grantaire can't even recognize his own voice as he shouts the other mans name. He's beside Enjolras in a second, Grantaire moves Enjolras head in his lap as he puts pressure on the wound.  


"R-" Enjolras voice cracks as he calls out to Grantaire.  


"No. Save your breath Enjolras." Grantaire feels the blood on his hands, warm and sticky, like the tears on his cheek. There's a commotion around them, Grantaire pays it no mind. All that matters now is those green eyes slowly losing light.  


"Grantaire stop. Get-" Enjolras struggles to breathe, coughing up blood it stains his pale skin. Dripping down his cheek into his soft blond hair. Grantaire goes to argue for him to stop talking, to save his breath until he's stable. He doesn't get the chance, Enjolras cuts him off once more.  


"Get out of here. You and everyone else get out of here before they kill you too." It's a miracle Enjolras can finish the sentence. It's even more of when Grantaire can find the power to say no.  


"No-"  


"Grantaire please. For me. Don't deny a dying man his last wish." Enjolras looks so broken as he whispers the words. Hand reaching to stroke Grantaire's cheek. He smiles and even his smile, the one that was so kind and strong  a few minutes before is broken.  


"Please R." He whispers again, Grantaire can feel a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see Combeferre. The young doctor pulls him up.  


"Thank you." Enjolras says, sharing one last smile with his closest friend. His head goes limp, blood starting to pool it stains his hair. Grantaire is dragged away, not from fight, simply from having no energy. He looks back as they cross the threshold.  


Enjolras' green eyes have opened. They're glazed over, glossy like a dead man's.  


"No." Grantaire whispers over and over. Ghostly green eyes meet brown. Enjolras smiles a wicked smile, blood between his teeth.  


"This is your fault." He cackles out. Voice as wicked as the smile, he lets out a laugh at Grantaire’s face. "It always is."  


* * *

 

  
Grantaire wakes. Ignoring the way his hands feel sticky and the horse feeling in his throat. The tile is cold as he walks down the hall into the kitchen. The clock on the stove reads 5:03 A.M, its later than he usually sleeps. It means the nightmare is getting better, he doesn’t deserve it, if it is. The Enjolras that graces his dreams is right. It was his fault.

 

He uses the step later to climb on the counter to reach the air vent. His friends were getting more clever when it comes to hiding this bottle of rum. It’s something that Grantaire can respect at the least. He’s careful as he climbs back down, the amber liquid held as if it were something more precious, something necessary for life. His feet rest on the cold tile once more, and Grantaire lets out a sigh of relief.

 

The bottle makes a clinking noise when he places it on the kitchen Island, the color of the liquid a sharp contrast to the white counter-top. He grabs a glass off of the drying rack, he hesitates when he reaches for the unopened bottle. The tag is still hanging on the string wrapped around the neck of the bottle. The large block letter still spelling out the same message. The tag is yellowed from the four years that have passed. It still reads,  _**HAPPY BIRTHDAY! DRINK THIS WITH ME AFTER WE WIN?- A. ENJOLRAS** _

 

His hand eventually just holds onto the empty glass. He stands there for God knows how long, he only realizes that it’s dawn, because the counter starts to look orange the way it does every morning when the light hits the red curtains. Grantaire can’t will himself to move from the counter side. As terrible as it is, he never takes his eyes from the bottle. It’s the last solid thing has from Enjolras, and if he drinks it. That amber liquid, drinks the alcohol that he has sworn off, we he have a hint of a taste of Enjolras’ lips? Can he dare risk that chance? _When the fuck did he get so creepy?_ He’s startled by the cough from behind him.

 

“How long have you been standing their R?” Feuilly asks his voice is hoarse, and his red hair is tousled in the way that comes from a fun night.

 

“Five.” He finds himself saying as Feuilly grabs his the bottle and moves it out of his reach. They’ll hide it later it on, and he’ll find it again. Grantaire stares at the glass in his hand.

 

“You didn’t have open it.” Feuilly is going towards the coffee machine. He turns back to face Grantaire as the starts to brew the coffee.

 

“No, No I didn’t. I wanted to.” For the first time in hours he moves. His bones crack and ache, it provides some sort of relief for him.

 

“It’s been four years R.” Grantaire doesn’t know if he means since his last drink or since Enjolras died.  In the end it doesn’t manner because he responds just the same.

 

“I know.” The words aren’t much but Feuilly understands. He squeezes Grantaire’s shoulder and smiles.

 

“We should start making breakfast soon, the others will be awake pretty soon.”  Feuilly let’s go on his shoulder, and starts making the pancakes telling Grantaire to make the eggs.

 

One by one everyone wakes up. Combeferre first and incoherent until he drinks a cup of coffee, and Marius the very last to wake, smiling as he waves and motions to the words written on his napkin.

 

**COSETTE IS STOPPING BY SHE SOUNDED UPSET.**

 

“Why?” Joly ask, Cosette is hard to upset nor is she still in the same espionage business as the rest of them. She isn’t a spy and only once have they seen her upset outside of what was necessary for a mission. She hasn’t been a spy since the end of the revolution.

 

**SHE DIDN'T SAY. SHE'LL BE HERE SOON...**

 

Combeferre makes eye contact with Grantaire and he nods. Ferre smiles as he tells Marius. “Tell her we’ll save some breakfast for her.” Marius smiles like the sun has been hung by Combeferre himself, within seconds he sends the message to Cosette.

 

Cosette shows up in fifteen minutes. When Marius opens the door she's shaking, she doesn't think twice before she hugs him. He’s bright pink as he holds onto her, his hand rubbing her back in comfort. He looks to Courf for help Cosette is too unfocused and stressed to read his signs.

 

“Cosette? Cariño, tell me what’s wrong?” Courf is moving them to the couch. It takes a while for the shaking to stop but the sobs are still their. Grantaire stays in the kitchen the entire time, sipping his Coffee waiting to help, or for an answer.

 

“He’s alive.” Cosette says after many minutes that he can no longer count them. “My brother is alive.”

  
Grantaire’s coffee mug falls to the floor.


	2. A Town on the Spanish Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter is read, and a phone call is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an anxiety attacks in this chapter. I suggest not reading if you are triggered by descriptions I can include a summary in comments if necessary.

“How do you know Cosette?” The silence that had fallen over the house is broken by his voice. When no response comes Grantaire repeats himself. “How do you know?”

 

She wordlessly hands his a cream colored envelope in familiar writing he can see her name on it. He knows that if he looks  inside there will be a letter with the same handwriting. He’s unsure if he can handle it if it is. He doesn’t really care, he’s careful to open the envelope.

 

**‘** **_I don't know how much time has passed since that night in the musian, but I have not seen the sun since that last morning. An old man will give you this letter to you. My dear sister, he is kind but he has no answers. I am in spain, near the shore I wish I knew more. I have faith that you will still believe I am alive. I know you are, maybe Combeferre was right when he said we had a twin connection. I hope they are peaceful. Find my friends, or those who are left. These men told me they were dead... I’m not sure if that’s true, but if they are still their tell them remember the fireworks and they will believe you._ **

 

Grantaire looks up to make eye contact with Combeferre, “It’s him.” With those words spoken he takes his leave. The bottle is long gone from the kitchen counter he curses, tries not to slam the window open as he climbs to the roof. Cigarette already lit between his lips.

 

He sits out there for hours. The wind harsh on his chapped lips, his skin cracks. Jehan finds him there as the sun goes down. “He called.” That's all that needs to be said and Grantaire is moving.

 

Grantaire’s body is warmer as they make their way down. It wasn’t a lie.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t know how long it's been since he’s seen the the sun. They’ve given him everything else. His testosterone shot, his other medication, food, clothing, shelter, pain, torture, a bed, a picture of his sister. They’ve given him everything but a moment of sunlight. He wonders why. It makes him miss them all, being with his friends was like being part of the sun. Not to mention _that_ nickname.

 

“Enjolras-” The Man’s voice snaps him out of it. “Your friends are coming for you. If you tell the what occurred here that will be the last thing that they ever hear.” The Man always speak like this. It doesn't strike the fear into him anymore not like it once did. Maybe that is why they were letting him go. He no longer gave them anything. Why not kill him then?

 

Enjolras is thrown onto a street corner with little more than a bag of his belongings. The sun is nice on his face. The town is silent and he isn’t capable of reading the words on the sign around him. He never took Spanish even though Courfeyrac insisted that he should. He regrets a lot of things that he should've done. His friends were right and he'll never get a chance to tell them that.

 

There’s a park in the center of the town. His bones ache from walking for so long and he can't do more then sit under a tree to rest. The sunlight is going through the leaves. He falls asleep staring at the picture of his sister. It's them on their 16th birthday. Cosette's arm is wrapped around his shoulder and she's smiling that brightest hes ever seen. They were at dinner with just a few members of the group. Only months before they would leave for training. He misses the days before sometimes. When he thinks of the future and what could've been,

 

When he wakes there is a man watching him not far away, just across the street. He seems familiar, there's a name on the tip of his tongue and before he can speak the man is gone. It is strange but he doesn't have time to think about it. He has to get home.The church bells ring in the distance and the town seems to wake up.

 

Enjolras realizes his clothes are ragged when a man turns his nose up to him. He’s gone door to door from store to store trying to ask in french and english if anyone would let him call home. No one seems to understand. The night is falling quickly and the exhaustion is slowly seeping back into his bones. He’s goes to the one place he never thought he would go with out Jehan or his father. Both found a comfort in the church that he had never come to know. It was a gentle relationship.  One that one day he might like to try. maybe.

 

An old man is standing at the end of the alter, he’s vaguely familiar as well. He reminds Enjolras more of his father than anything else.  _ His father.  _ While the thought haunted him, not knowing if the man who raised him still live he had to put it to the side at least for now. Until he got back home.

 

The old man says nothing as he takes Enjolras to a room. It is cooler than the ocean air, and the bed beckons Enjolras. “Rest.” The old man says in a hoarse voice and he leaves Enjolras alone. He’s restless and it takes what seems like hours to fall asleep. When he does sleep he dreams of blue eyes that have never seemed so scared before, and a quietly melody of voice crying his name over and over. ( _ “Alexandre... please Lex you said you wouldn’t leave me.”  _ Will always haunt him. Even if he is awake.) 

 

Some nights he like to pretend that if he focuses enough, he can dream of better days, of better things.  Their laughter filling the musian when closing time was approaching, the way Combeferre helped study, the gentle reading voice Jehan always took on, Grantaire’s singing, the confession he never was brave enough to say.  _ It’s too late now. They’re dead, Grantaire is dead, they are all dead. Enjolras you have to believe it. You can’t disappoint yourself again. Everyone is dead except for Cosette.  _ His breathing has gotten harsher the world is spinning and-

The old man is kneeling next to him, a hand on his shoulder it grounds Enjolras.

 

When his breathing has slowed the old man helps him up, he manages a weak smile before he says 

 

“After breakfast, you can make your call. Stay here until they can come for you.” Enjolras nods and doesn’t think better of it.

 

Breakfast is a blur for him, Enjolras spends it eating quickly and tapping his leg. He tries to show how grateful he is to these people but he has been left alone to eat. When he lived in the house with the others this would’ve been a god sent gift but now... its different having to eat alone. He wants their to be people, people who care. People who haunt him because of the love they shared for one another. He misses them. When breakfast is finished the old man leads him to the telephone. 

 

“Thank you.” Enjolras says smiling. The old man nods his eye twinkling and leaves. It takes a moment before Enjolras can pick up the phone. The receiver is heavy in his hand. With shaking fingers he types out the only number he knows for sure.  _ Cosette’s. _

 

It takes two rings and he manages to say “Hello.” How he always did when he spoke to her. Calmly, a bit of happiness present, he tries not to let his panic seep into that one word.

 

“Enjolras.” It’s a voice that isn’t his sister’s, it’s a voice he never thought he would hear again. Courfeyrac’s voice. That always sounded the way the scarfs he wore felt. Courfeyrac who was supposed to be dead. _ Because they are all dead. Everyone is dead except Cosette.  _ His breathing is going harsher and harsher it’s getting a little too hot and for all the breath he’s taking in he can’t seem to get it into his lungs.

 

“Enjolras, breathe okay. I’m here breathe with me.” The sound of that voice and it seems to get worse. “Okay oh god I'm getting Cosette, just keep breathing Enj.”  _ That voice isn’t real. He isn’t real. He is dead.  _ There’s an exchange on the other side of the phone that he can’t process.

 

“Alexandre.” Cosette’s voice calms him and after a few minutes he’s back to breathing normally.  _ She’s here. She’s real. _

  
“I’m here.” Enjolras says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Enjolras sleeps a lot. As always comment and kudos appreciated, if you wanna ask anything about anything you can find me at bromos-of-the-barricade on tumblr. with love Jai.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for more, Kudos and Comments appreciated.


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